Contest Entries

Dead or Alive | Round 2 • Write to Rank 2

Space stations were much more fun when one wasn't on the run.

Wren streaked across the main terminal, shoving people out of her way—until something hit her from behind and sent her crashing to the ground. Her hands were wrenched behind her back, arm twisted to the point where she felt it might snap.

"You tired of this, yet?" The man's breath was hot on her ear. "Because I sure am."

Panting, Wren glanced back at him from the corner of her eye. "Me too. But I guess neither of us is leaving here until one of us is dead first."

"Enough. I don't want to have to kill you." She felt him shift his grip behind her, and a pair of electrocuffs snapped over her wrists. He pulled her up and pushed her forward with a command to walk.

She spun, bringing her knee up and jabbing him in the stomach. He grunted and lost his hold. The hands that reached for her met the sleeve of her jacket and air.

Wren took off, her hands still locked behind her. Made for some awkward running, and people stared as she ran past. She didn't bother to look back.

Heart pumping, shoulders killing her, she searched for the closest corridor. Maybe she could lose the man in the maze of hallways in the station. A shame she didn't know them well herself.

She'd just reached a crowded corridor when a jolt hit her and heat seared up her arms.

She tripped and fell to the floor. Couldn't move. Could barely think except for the agonizing pain. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Finally the pain stopped. Wren lay there slumped on the floor, cheek pressed against the freezing surface. People passed by, one person not even bothering to step over her. No sympathy for runaways.

Steel-toed boots appeared beside her head and stopped. Her pursuer loomed over her, cold features visible through the loose strands of hair falling across her face. "Is my point made?"

Running her tongue over her teeth and tasting blood, she nodded.

"Good." A hand seized the fabric at the back of her neck and lifted her to her feet. "Let's go."

She obeyed, letting him drag her through the station, through crowds of people who ignored the spectacle like it was an everyday occurrence. Because on a place like here it was. 

She zeroed in on a man approaching and eyed the weapon at his waist. If she could just—

A foot hooked her leg and sent her to the ground. "Don't even think about it." He stooped and looked her in the eye. "You're coming with me, Wren," he said, almost sounding regretful. "Dead or alive—"

"Who hired you?" she blurted.

He paused for a moment, still keeping a firm grasp on her collar. She felt his knuckles brush the back of her neck as his fingers flexed.

"Your father."

Silence.

Wren pursed her lips. "Just what I thought."